Boys Night Out, a Thieves in Time story 8
by Orion Lyonesse
Summary: When Avon refuses to show affection for Vila in public, Tarrant comes up with a plot to change Avon's mind. Avon/Vila. Newly edited and updated. Follows '...Ever I Saw Your Face.'


_A/N: This is Chapter 8 of Thieves in Time. It is a bit of fluff (sorely needed after 'Encounter with Violence,' the last chapter). Nothing ever runs smoothly for Avon and Vila's on-again-off-again relationship, and it always seems to be Vila paying the price. This time, though, Vila comes out ahead._

_Time period for this is after Avon and Vila are settled on Scorpio. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own most of these characters. I do enjoy messing with their lives, however._

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Vila stomped onto Scorpio's flight deck, his state of disgust obvious to Tarrant, as well as Dayna and Cally.

"What's the matter, Vila?" Dayna asked him, smiling. As far as men were concerned, she seemed to treat them all as hyperactive five-year-olds most of the time.

"What makes you think something's the matter?" the thief growled in return, avoiding her eyes.

"It's apparent to all of us," she replied patiently. "You might as well give."

"It's nothing, really," he evaded, picking at a piece of imaginary lint on his sleeve.

"You and Avon have another fight?" Tarrant queried. He'd watched the two men with distant amusement as they fought and made up, only to fight again. Just like an old married couple!

Vila looked down at the deck. "Uh, not exactly."

"Lover's quarrel, then?" Dayna chuckled, raising an elegant eyebrow at the thief.

"Sort of."

"I'm afraid my experience with that kind of thing is very limited, Vila," Dayna informed him regretfully.

"Well," Tarrant interrupted them, "I have some expertise in that area, Vila. Maybe I can help." He smiled benignly at the thief.

"Oh, it was the usual thing."

"What usual thing?" Cally asked. She'd known the two men longer than the others and had seen all the pain and tragedy between Avon and Vila, especially when Blake had come between them. She'd often held the thief as he poured out his heart and tears into her sympathetic care.

"You know. He doesn't like to show his feelings in front of anyone. We've had this disagreement before and will again, I'm sure. I understand why he feels the way he does, I really do, but just once in a while it would be nice if he could be a little more open about it in front of you all." He looked around at the other three. "I mean, it's not like you don't know…"

Tarrant smiled. This problem he understood. "I remember a similar situation with a fellow student at the Academy, a female student, of course."

"Of course," Vila said, smiling.

"She complained about my not being publicly affectionate and decided to do something about it."

"What did she do?" Dayna wanted to know.

"Tried to make me jealous by paying attention to another man while she was with me."

"Did it work?" Vila asked eagerly.

"For awhile," replied the pilot. "Especially at first."

Vila looked puzzled. "I don't understand."

"It's quite simple, really," Cally explained. "All you have to do is show a little interest in someone else or have someone show interest in you while Avon is watching. He gets jealous and decides he should be a little more demonstrative with his feelings in public."

"Sounds easier than it is," sniffed the thief. "Avon doesn't appreciate being manipulated and I'd probably wind up in traction. Besides, who is there besides you three? I mean," he grinned, "you and Dayna are very nice, but…"

"But we're not your type," laughed Dayna. "Well, there's always Tarrant," she finished slyly, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Oh, no!" Tarrant backed up, waving his hands in front of him. Bad idea! If Vila thought he'd end up in traction, he, Tarrant, might end up dead! Then he checked, smiling. "But I may have a solution." He held up a data tape. "We received an invitation a little over an hour ago from the representatives of the planetary government of Tayag. It seems they're interested in joining us, but especially wish to communicate in person with, er, the remaining members of Blake's original crew. I gathered it's something of a point of honour with them."

"I still don't see how…" Vila broke in.

"Vila, the planet's social structure is somewhat, shall we say, different," said Tarrant, overriding him. "And, while I realize that Cally is also a member of the original crew, they've asked that only male members attend the conference."

"That's hardly fair," Dayna pouted, glancing over at the mildly insulted Auron.

"You still haven't given us the details, Tarrant," Vila reminded him.

"Well, you see, this planet apparently only allows bonding of couples of the same sex, and any mixing of the sexes is only allowed for the perpetuation of the species. I realize it's different, but it's their way. And their culture is tipped on the side of the male sex, so…"

"So, I get to stay on board," Cally finished for him, disgustedly.

"I'm afraid so."

"So," Vila picked up the thread, "if Avon goes down there with us and someone makes a pass at me…"

"…it just might do the trick," Tarrant completed.

"But there's no guarantee. I mean, what if someone makes a play for him instead?"

"It's a possibility," agreed Tarrant, nodding, "but since I'll be there to make sure all goes according to plan, you might just have a chance."

"But what are you going to tell Avon?" Cally wondered aloud.

"The truth, or at least as much as he needs to know for his part of the mission," Tarrant answered her. "You know, play on the old ego."

"Well," Cally returned, "he certainly has that in abundance."

Avon finished his remarks with a smirk and sat back down at the large oval conference table.

"Well, I believe it should be settled easily, then," the planetary representative said with a nod. "We'll draw up the details and have a hard copy ready in about twelve hours. We're most grateful for your assistance and hope to share any resources we have that you may find useful." He turned avid green eyes on Avon, continuing, "In the meantime, perhaps you'd care to sample some of our world's more 'esoteric' delights?"

"We'd be honoured." Avon granted him one of his most beatific smiles, choosing to go along with the man's barely-concealed flirtation and innuendo. He didn't see Vila's tension nor Tarrant's calming touch on Vila's arm.

The lounge was dimly lit, the atmosphere dense and heavy with smoke. The three men sat at a corner table, watching the goings-on with interest, Avon and Vila not as much as Tarrant, who felt somewhat ill-at-ease with the all-male crowd. Much to his embarrassment, Tarrant had had to fend off several would-be admirers and refused at least half a dozen invitations to dance or share a private drink. Avon, likewise, was besieged, much to Vila's chagrin and discomfort. As the one in the center, Vila had all the appearance of being claimed by either of his companions.

This is not working the way it was supposed to, the thief groused to himself, then turned a speculative eye on his lover. What did he have to lose, after all? "Maybe if you'd dance with me, they would leave you alone." he proposed quietly into Avon's ear.

Avon threw his lover a dark look, brows lowering. "Vila, we've been over this a thousand times. I don't enjoy pawing you or being pawed by you in front of an audience." He turned back to the show before him, picking up his drink.

"I wouldn't be pawing you, Avon," Vila protested, stung by Avon's wording, "just holding you while we danced. Besides, everyone else is doing it."

"'It' is precisely what they are not doing!" Avon set his jaw and leaned back in his chair, making it clear the subject was closed. Vila slumped back in his own seat with a sigh.

Tarrant barely managed to control his mirth at Avon's discomfort and Vila's despair. Finally, taking the situation firmly in hand, he reached over to the thief, offering his hand. "Come on, Vila, I'll dance with you."

"What?" barked Avon, startled and more than a little annoyed, as he watched Tarrant lead HIS thief onto the dance floor. The tech glared, seething in silence, his temper's tether slowly coming unwound.

The music was slow and sensuous. After a brief fumble as he tried to figure out where to put his hands, Tarrant settled and held Vila close, whispering, "I've never done anything like this before, Vila. I'm a little unsure…"

"You're doing fine, Tarrant," Vila assured him. "Maybe there's more to you than I realized." He was quite enjoying the feel of the pilot's lean, well-muscled back beneath his fingers.

Vila laid his head on Tarrant's shoulder and sighed quietly. Chancing a peek in Avon's direction, he saw black fury on Avon's face as he rose slowly to his feet and stalked, knocking chairs aside, toward the dance floor.

"Uh oh," Vila warned. "He's coming this way," Tarrant pivoted Vila around, turned and danced into a sharp right cross that sent him sprawling amongst the other couples.

Tarrant grimaced as he braced himself up on one elbow, rubbing his jaw. Then he smiled gingerly, watching as Avon pulled Vila into his arms and the two men began to move in time to the music, Vila snuggled happily against Avon.

The pilot spoke softly into the teleport bracelet, "Bring me up, Cally. Mission accomplished."

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_A/N: The story continues with 'As My Lord Wishes.' As usual, Avon is dealing with ghosts from his past and needs Vila's help to sort things out._


End file.
